


Life in the Fast Lane: Justin

by oiuytrewq36



Series: Soundtrack Trilogy, combined and expanded [38]
Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:49:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oiuytrewq36/pseuds/oiuytrewq36
Summary: I haven’t been to a house party in ages, but we’re on vacation, sort of, and the gallery doesn’t actually need me to do much more than stand around and look pretty for the next few days and Brian’s getting a little antsy from all the working from our suite, so when a cute guy with a truly terrible haircut slips me a note with an address and a time at the hotel bar, I don’t have to see much more than his initial amused eyebrow raise to ask if he’d like to tag along.
Relationships: Brian Kinney/Justin Taylor (Queer as Folk)
Series: Soundtrack Trilogy, combined and expanded [38]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2077905
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Life in the Fast Lane: Justin

I haven’t been to a house party in ages, but we’re on vacation, sort of, and the gallery doesn’t actually need me to do much more than stand around and look pretty for the next few days and Brian’s getting a little antsy from all the working from our suite, so when a cute guy with a truly terrible haircut slips me a note with an address and a time at the hotel bar, I don’t have to see much more than his initial amused eyebrow raise to ask if he’d like to tag along.

It’s a good party, as they go. I’ve lost track of Brian somewhere, though, and the semi-orgy on the floor I’m on right now seems badly coordinated and not very fun, so I dust off some of my more stalkery skills and go looking.

I find him sprawled shirtless on a futon against the wall on one of the lower levels. He’s blowing smoke rings at the ceiling, not paying much attention to the few couples and groups around him. Then he looks across the room and our eyes meet, and his whole face just lights up.

There are moments, once in a while, when I can be knocked off my feet just from him looking at me, and I’m feeling it now, in the way he’s spilled so carelessly over the futon even while he stares right at me with undiluted rough-hewn want. He smirks as I get closer, beckons me to him. I fit myself into the crook of his arm, our legs tangling together. He tastes like pot and warm salt and cheap liquor.

Brian lets go of my mouth after a few minutes, after I’ve already begun to lose myself again in him, both my hands knotted like laurels in his hair. He leans back in, and I assume he’s going to kiss me again, but then he murmurs, “I missed you,” into my cheek with soft kiss-chapped lips.

I laugh. “We were together- what? An hour ago? Less?”

He shrugs, but he’s smiling into my skin, too. “So?”

“So nothing. I missed you too.” He just puts his face against my neck.

“How come you’re not out in the middle of everything?” I say.

Brian exhales. “Got- bored. Or something. I don’t know.”

I wrap myself around him as well as I can, and he smiles, stroking his free hand through my hair.

He passes me the joint. “You look hot, by the way.”

I rub my nose against his jaw to hide my smile. “Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“What happened to your shirt?” I say, sliding my hands up his warm bare sides, and he chuckles. “Lost it on my way in. I think I threw it in that weird pink room.”

I take a long satisfying drag off the joint and hand it back as my body starts to relax. He cups my face in his hands and kisses me, really kisses me, with soft little hungry noises and his tongue between my lips and the futon molding to the shape of our intertwined bodies.

He’s so warm, his hands especially, tracing on my back, and it feels- almost cozy, ridiculous as it sounds. I nip at his mouth and he grins and tugs me closer, strong solid arms holding me right where he wants me, and it’s just _good_. All I’ve ever wanted, if I’m being honest.

He touches my bangs, brushing them just slightly back.  
“I like your hair like this.”

I bump his nose. “I noticed,” I say, and he smiles, just barely shy, so sweet it melts every part of me.

Brian licks into my mouth, pulling me on top of him. He slides his fingers up under the hem of my tank and murmurs, soft, so much I can barely make it out, “I want you.”

I lean down to kiss him and he smiles. A few moments later, he pushes me away, just a little, and strokes my face.

“What?” I ask.

He smiles again and raises his head to kiss me, just once, chastely. “I want you to fuck me,” he says.

I stare, then look around to make sure that we are indeed still in semi-public, then stare some more. “Here?” I say.

He laughs, very soft and gentle, and glances around us. “Not like anyone here knows us,” he says. “And if they do- would that be a hot rumor, or what? You topping me at some house party in Miami, but no one knows enough of the story to say for sure?”

I raise my eyebrows. “You’ve thought about this?”

He pulls me down closer and nuzzles at my face. “How could I not? You’re fucking irresistible.”

“Brian-”

“I’ve been uptight about this for too long,” he says, and he sounds like he’s joking but his eyes are dead serious. “I want to. Please.”

I touch his cheek. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, and reaches up to kiss me again. “Yeah.”

I’m careful, maybe more than usual (definitely more than usual) in getting him ready, in pushing in, watching his face for any signs of anxiety or regret. But he just laughs at me, teasing me, this new gorgeous security in himself I’m not sure I’ve ever seen before, and I thank quite a large number of deities that we’re already married, saving me the indignity of having to propose at a sex party in Florida. Not that he’d really object, obviously.

I shift my weight, balancing myself with my hands on his chest, and he gasps.

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers, tugging me down until his mouth is on my throat, “just- like that, please, _yes_ -”

I weave a hand into his hair and pull his head back until we’re eye-to-eye, because if we’re going to do this, he’s going to damn well know it’s me doing it to him, and he makes a high tight little noise in the back of his throat and runs his hands down my arms.

“God,” he says. “Shit, Sunshine, would you fucking kiss me already?” and - to hell with power plays - I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss the fuck out of him. It’s not like we’re in New York, or, God forbid, Pittsburgh, but we both know what this means, and not for the first or fifth or thirtieth time, I think that I have never been more in love in my life.

“You’re-” Brian breathes, and then his head tips back into a long low moan, his hands stuttering on my waist.

“Yeah,” I tell him, holding him tighter. “You too.”

**Author's Note:**

> there’ll be a new Christie AU update tomorrow, I promise - just gotta polish up all those pesky clues first.


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